While they were hosting IMF and World Bank
and while they were protesting...
In the same city there was a community facing life worse than any of us could imagine.
These are words I wrote after my visit on September 27th to a community devastated by a horrible flood accompanying the photos I took the same day.
No need for words really. These photographs are worth a thousand words or more. After the shame of Hurricane Katrina, I don't have tears left to shed. These are images of a common problem we have in our “civilized” societies.
After the flood of September 8 2009, after 30+ people died and 100s of animals (some of which were the livelihoods of the survivors), the recovery began. Vacuuming water and mold out of homes, throwing out furniture, electronics, clothing, kitchenware, food that were ruined, burying animals (or family members), bleaching homes, calculating the damage...the recovery began. The visit we did 3 weeks after the flood showed different pictures than what we saw on the tv. Survivors were recovering. They all need help for sure, but the recovery was in place.
Except for this one neighborhood... Actually I have only visited this one, so I don't really know how many more of these ignored streets there are... But one is too many.
This is a roman neighborhood in Catalca. Catalca is part of Istanbul for those who don't know. Or can't tell from the pictures... The street is called Creek Street (Dere Sokak). The name has more of a meaning now.
It's been almost 3 weeks since the flood. The signs of recovery elsewhere, are not present here.
The people are pleased to see us there. But skeptical. Some yell “Tell the government we need help”. We can't bring ourselves to say “Our power is limited to our internet groups”. They think we are journalists. Nope merely hikers... We can't say it. One woman yells “We'll never get help”. Someone from our group tries to give hope “With these pictures we'll try to bring some attention here”. I am not so sure... From the tone of her voice neither she is.
The children... In the filth they run around, asking us to take their pictures. They pose for us smiling.
It is polite to smile back. Let alone smiling I can't seem to utter a faint “Hello” to these romans who are the subject of our funniest commedies with their shanty towns, feisty attitude and joyful music. They plan the violin or darbuka during our dinner parties or weddings. The roses in their hair match those on their skirts.
No roses, no carnations, no music in this town. In the midst of awful destruction, one young man says to the other “let's clean your house today”. I wonder to myself which structure they refer to. I see no houses that can be cleaned to make liveable again.
The saddest part is that there is nothing we can possibly help them with. They don't need money, or clothes, or cleaning supplies. They need the place to be rebuilt from scratch. Until then, a group of hikers can only come, see and report in hopes that someone hears the call of help before the winter comes.
More pictures including some from our hike in the village where we met an old men, Aziz Nesin Foundation for which the trip was organized.
In the same city there was a community facing life worse than any of us could imagine.
These are words I wrote after my visit on September 27th to a community devastated by a horrible flood accompanying the photos I took the same day.
No need for words really. These photographs are worth a thousand words or more. After the shame of Hurricane Katrina, I don't have tears left to shed. These are images of a common problem we have in our “civilized” societies.
After the flood of September 8 2009, after 30+ people died and 100s of animals (some of which were the livelihoods of the survivors), the recovery began. Vacuuming water and mold out of homes, throwing out furniture, electronics, clothing, kitchenware, food that were ruined, burying animals (or family members), bleaching homes, calculating the damage...the recovery began. The visit we did 3 weeks after the flood showed different pictures than what we saw on the tv. Survivors were recovering. They all need help for sure, but the recovery was in place.
Except for this one neighborhood... Actually I have only visited this one, so I don't really know how many more of these ignored streets there are... But one is too many.
This is a roman neighborhood in Catalca. Catalca is part of Istanbul for those who don't know. Or can't tell from the pictures... The street is called Creek Street (Dere Sokak). The name has more of a meaning now.
It's been almost 3 weeks since the flood. The signs of recovery elsewhere, are not present here.
The people are pleased to see us there. But skeptical. Some yell “Tell the government we need help”. We can't bring ourselves to say “Our power is limited to our internet groups”. They think we are journalists. Nope merely hikers... We can't say it. One woman yells “We'll never get help”. Someone from our group tries to give hope “With these pictures we'll try to bring some attention here”. I am not so sure... From the tone of her voice neither she is.
The children... In the filth they run around, asking us to take their pictures. They pose for us smiling.
It is polite to smile back. Let alone smiling I can't seem to utter a faint “Hello” to these romans who are the subject of our funniest commedies with their shanty towns, feisty attitude and joyful music. They plan the violin or darbuka during our dinner parties or weddings. The roses in their hair match those on their skirts.
No roses, no carnations, no music in this town. In the midst of awful destruction, one young man says to the other “let's clean your house today”. I wonder to myself which structure they refer to. I see no houses that can be cleaned to make liveable again.
The saddest part is that there is nothing we can possibly help them with. They don't need money, or clothes, or cleaning supplies. They need the place to be rebuilt from scratch. Until then, a group of hikers can only come, see and report in hopes that someone hears the call of help before the winter comes.
More pictures including some from our hike in the village where we met an old men, Aziz Nesin Foundation for which the trip was organized.